


Robed of Coming Out

by mattzerella_sticks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breakfast, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Early Morning Bickering, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Flustered Dean Winchester, M/M, Pancakes, Post 13x22 but Pre 13x23 so that sweet spot of good feels, Soft Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Post 13x22 & Pre 13x23A little snapshot of an average morning in the Bunker between the Winchesters.





	Robed of Coming Out

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea, and I thought this wasn't gonna be longer than 300 words, but here we are. Enjoy!

            At six in the morning, the kitchen was unusually quiet. With all the refugees from the Apocalypse getting used to their new home – where food was abundant and easily obtained – the door was barely shut, with people moving in and out of the space. And now, a lone hunter sits sentry with a lukewarm cup of coffee and a heavy book. The quiet solitude lasts for a beat before others make their way into the room.

            “Morning Sam,” Mary says, stretching out a large yawn, “Surprised to see you up so early.”

            “Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, flipping onto the next page, “Dean and I are going on a hunt in a day or two but it feels like we haven’t done enough research.”

            Mary pauses at the coffee machine, her drink dripping into the cup. She casts a wry glance in her son’s direction. “Really?” she asks, “Something new?”

            “Looks like it,” Sam sighs, finally meeting her gaze, “At first we thought it was a simple vamp problem, but there’s a few differences…”

            “Well I don’t know,” Mary takes her coffee and moves closer to the breakfast nook, “But to me it sounds like _maybe_ you need a fresh pair of eyes…?”

            “Aw no, you ain’t weaslin’ out of our trip for some hunt.”

            The mother-son duo turn as Bobby enters, tucking his cap firmly onto his head. Unlike the Winchesters, he’s fully dressed in uniform: jeans and plaid. He’s glaring at Mary. “We spend how long gettin’ it all set up and here you are about to blow me off fer a hunt?”

            “Bobby it’s not like that,” Mary tries to defend, blushing, “I was just gonna do some research –“

            “Please Mary, we both know it wouldn’t stop there,” Bobby tells her, “Besides, your idea of ‘research’ is going headfirst into a situation with guns ready.”

            “And is that a problem?”

            “Only when you’ve already _made plans_.”

            “I’m sure we can make a quick pit stop,” Mary suggests, “The Grand Canyon isn’t going anywhere –“

            “It’s not about the Canyon it’s –“

            “Good morning everyone!”

            The elder hunters halt their argument, biting down their tongues with forced smiles at Jack. The nephilim quirks his brow at the scene, “Is… everything alright?”

            “Peachy,” Bobby growls, “Just havin’ a… _discussion_ with Mary, here.”

            “Oh,” Jack’s smile falters, “About what?”

            “Nothing,” Mary sighs, stepping away from Bobby and towards Jack, “You’re out early?”

            “I finished the show I was watching,” Jack tells them, “I wanted to start the next one, but Castiel told me that after every five episodes I should at least get up and walk around so people know I’m alright.”

            “That’s… smart,” Mary grimaces, “So, is there anything else you need?”

            “I guess I could eat?” Jack shrugs, “Usually Dean is asking if I’m hungry around this time, and I might not be but he still gets me something to eat. I guess I just... _expect_ it now.”

            “Like Pavlov,” Sam snickers, closing his book, “Is there anything you want?”

            Jack thinks it over, racking his brain, weighing his breakfast options over. He settles on one: “Pancakes.”

            “Good choice,” Sam laughs, “I could go for some pancakes, too.” He looks towards the door, “Weird, though.”

            “What?”

            “It’s nothing but… Dean just has this sense of when I want pancakes even before I do and they’re usually done by the time I wake up.”

            “Give the kid a break,” Bobby says, leaning against the counter, “Boy cooks for all of us most of the time, deserves a break.”

            “He loves it though,” Sam says, grinning, “He’s been waking up earlier because he knows to feed everyone he’ll need a head start,” he looks back to the door, “I’m surprised he’s not already up.”

            “He did get in pretty late,” Mary tells them, “I got up last night for a glass of water and heard him walking in. He was trying to be quiet, but he was laughing too hard.”

            “So he’s hung over,” Sam sighs, “We’ll never get breakfast now –“

            The group hangs their heads for a beat before a deep yawn startles them towards the door. Dean, all sleep-mussed and bleary-eyed, shuffles into the room. He’s making his way towards the fridge while everyone gawks at him.

            “Morning,” he says, digging into the fridge, “You guys hungry? I’m thinking pancakes…” Dean grabs some butter, eggs, and milk and starts moving through the motions of cooking. He’s stirring the batter when he finally realizes the makeshift spotlight he’s garnered. Dean turns, the mixing bowl in the crook of his arm, to find everyone’s eyes still on him. “Hey,” he barks, “You all okay?”

            “Dean,” Sam says, mouth hanging open, “Um – uh… what are you – what are you wearing?”

            The question strikes a nerve, sending Dean’s eyes rolling. “I thought you’d have gotten used to the robe by now, Sam,” he grumbles, “If you make another crack about it you’re only getting a two-stack.”

            “No, Dean, I know your robe but – but you’re not –“

            “Dean!”

            Their attention is drawn toward Castiel, standing in the doorjamb, with Dean’s grey ‘dead guy’ robe in his grip. Dean focuses on it, then on what he’s wearing.

            Instead of his usual robe, Dean has Castiel’s trench coat on his shoulders. His cheeks burn at the realization, and he slowly rises to meet the questioning glances of his family.

            “I can explain.”

            “I’d hope so,” Mary says, “But please, not in _too much_ detail.”

            Dean sighs, setting the bowl down and drawing up a stool to sit on. He leans on his elbows and frowns. “So,” he starts, “Me and Cas… we’re – uh… we’re a _thing_.”

            “What kind of a _thing_?”

            “What do you think Sammy – a _thing_! Y’know… in an… _advanced_ friendship. Cas and I – he’s dating – and I’m dating… there’re no _girlfriends_ –“

            “You’re boyfriends?” Mary says for him, smiling patiently.

            “Yeah,” Dean nods, “That.”

            “How long?”

            “Day or two after we came back,” Dean shrugs, “Just sitting around and it hit us – there’s nothing coming after us. We don’t have to worry about some big bad or a huge crisis… everything was on the backburner and we could… do _stuff_.” Castiel has moved to stand behind Dean now, squeezing his shoulder. Dean moves to take it, smiling lightly. “We were just spending more time with each other and, well… things come out.”

            “Like you,” Sam says, smirking, “Out of the closet.”

            “Shuddup…”

            “Dean, I couldn’t be happier for you,” Mary says, looking to Castiel, “both of you.”

            “Thank you Mary.”

            “Yeah, yeah, lovely family moment,” Bobby breaks in, “But if I remember correctly someone promised us _pancakes_?”

            Dean sighs, but drags himself up. “Fine,” he says, “For you, I’ll put my emotional moment of freedom to the wayside. Happy?”

            “Yep.”

            He rolls his eyes, but moves back towards the abandoned mixing bowl. However, he drops a quick kiss onto Castiel’s lips. “You want your coat back?”

            “Not yet,” Castiel whispers, “I like seeing you in it.”

            “Please, I want to keep my appetite!” Sam jeers.

            “That’s it, you’re only getting two!”

            “Dean, come on –“

            “He’s a growing boy, Dean –“

            “Ma, Sam doesn’t need to grow any taller –“

            “Actually Sam’s imposing height might be very tactical in certain situations –“

            “Not if it involves sneakin’. Monsters’ll see that tree boy comin’ miles away!”

            “I am not a _tree_ –“

            “Yeah we’ve already been over this. He’s a _moose_ –“

            “Wait,” Jack says, drawing the bickering to a ceasefire, “So if you and Castiel are together… does this mean you're my father, too?”

            “Well, Jack not –“ he catches a glance of Jack’s hopeful expression, and the smile blooms easily across his face, “Sure, kid.”

            The peaceful moment, like any in the Bunker, doesn’t last long. This time Sam cuts its brief life short.

            “I want to be Jack’s dad, too!”

            “Sam, a kid can’t have _three_ fathers –“

            “Hollywood would disagree, Dean.”

            “Please, you are _not_ Tom Selleck!”

            “Sam, I’d be delighted if you would be my father as well –“

            “See!”

            “Sam –“

            “Dean, I’m okay with sharing parental claims with Sam –“

            “Babe, why are you taking his side...“

            Mary sidles up to Bobby, leaning on his shoulder. “You know, about our trip?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Any chance we can leave within the hour?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ya like?
> 
> I couldn't shake the idea of Dean accidentally taking Cas's trench coat instead of his robe out of my mind and needed to write the fic. Drop a kudos/comment below!


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